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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991843">Calling Card, Private Dance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen'>RodeoQueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil May Grind: Magic Mike! AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Can You Find The Overwatch Reference?, Dante (Devil May Cry) is a Sweetheart, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Other, Reader Hates Making Phonecalls, Rodeo Doesn't Know How Strip Clubs Work, Stripper!Dante, Strippers &amp; Strip Clubs, V Drinks Starbucks, V Is Called Vitale, reader is gender-neutral</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:40:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29991843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>In which you finally call to schedule your private dance with Dante.</em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Male Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil May Grind: Magic Mike! AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Calling Card, Private Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <em>Finally, Rodeo Updates.Thanks Y'all For Holding On.</em>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just when you couldn’t be absolute garbage, you sunk even lower in your own standards. On your day off, you had been haunted by the cowboy hat sitting on your dresser. </p><p><em>“Spare this outlaw some sugar?”</em> You almost turned red again at the memory of those powerful thighs flexing as he prowled to you. </p><p>You better eat some Kellogg’s cereal before you get too hot and heavy. </p><p>The thought of cereal had brought you to the kitchen, your phone tucked against the waist of your shorts. </p><p>“Has it really been a week?” You whined to yourself, staring at the card you kept on your fridge. Sipping some hot drink, you sighed at your cowardice. </p><p>A week ago, it had been the best day of your life. Well, at least to the suppressed horny chunk of your brain. A bartender charmed you out of your sobriety and a stripper with the cowboy hat stole the breath out of you and then a wonderful man named Dante gave you a chance to reach out to him again. </p><p>Literally, reach out. Like, to touch his abs. </p><p>You spent the entire morning after swiping through photos of you and Dante your friends drunkenly took and sent to you in the group chat. Most of them were incredibly risque and you kept them hidden in your photo library. They shall be archived like sacred texts. </p><p>Yet here you were, moping in your apartment at how you couldn’t call up Devil May Cry. It was as if the air cemented your arms to yourself, unable to reach across and call up the club. </p><p>You wanted to see him again, not even to see him in the near-nude. You just liked to talk to him. Your time with this bartender had been more fun than you had intended, how forward and casual he was. </p><p>When was the last time you had to have a chance like this again? </p><p>Where’s the logic? Finally, a nice guy with nice pecs and a nicer butt and the nicest personality wants to spend time with you, and you want to be anxious? Are you mental? </p><p>Whipping your phone out, your heart beat loudly. While squinting at the number you typed it into your phone. </p><p><em>“Don’t mess up the numbers.”</em>  You warned yourself. </p><p>You call them the first time and the dialing noise as the call is being connected freaked you out. Finger nearly jamming the red button, you stop yourself. You do a lap around your kitchen island before putting your phone on speaker. You even think about doing a shot of whatever liquor you had in your cupboard for liquid courage. </p><p>“Okay, you got this. You still got some time before-”</p><p>“Devil May Cry? This is Vitale speaking.” A bored voice asks. </p><p><em>“Aw geez!” </em>You internally scream. </p><p>“Hi, um. I have a coupon for a private dance.” </p><p>“Do you now?” He teases. </p><p>
  <em>“Why does everyone at this place have to try me?”</em>
</p><p>“I’d-I’d like to use it.” </p><p>“Good for you. May I get a name?” </p><p>“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” </p><p>“Mmm.” </p><p>Vitale sighs lightly through the phone as he flips through the schedule. The noise rumbles and amplifies your jittery nerves while calming you at the same time. </p><p><em>“He should work for a phone sex hotline. Good lord.” </em>You think to yourself. </p><p>“Do you have a certain entertainer in mind-” </p><p>“Dante Sparda!” You say his name a little too quickly, your breath catching up with you afterward. Vitale chuckles. </p><p>“Alright. He’s available this Saturday. Is nine o’clock in the evening a good time for you?” </p><p>“Oh-oh, that’s fine. Thank you.” </p><p>“Alright then.” </p><p>“Thank you very much, Mr. Vitale.” </p><p>“You have manners. I like that. Farewell.” </p><p>“Goodbye!” You hang up, letting out a breath of relief. Now, what were you going to wear? The current baggy sweatshirt and athletic shorts simply wouldn’t do. You only had a few days to figure this shit out. </p><p>“Cereal first. Horny later.” You conclude before groaning at the sight of your empty cupboard, long devoured of the treasured delicacy. </p><p>Meanwhile, Vitale puts the phone down, his rings clinking against his overpriced floral iced tea. Dante, his cousin, had never ever used one of his “special treatment” cards before. It was the club policy that a few of the more well-known strippers were allowed to give out heavily-discounted cards as a way of promoting the business. </p><p>It was always so loud at night, V gladly taking the morning-to-afternoon shifts. It helped him with paying rent as he did his apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor. </p><p>The previously-mentioned man walked into the club late with a slice of pizza as usual. Vitale could literally smell the Axe spray off of him. </p><p>“You’re late,” Vitale mumbled, tucking stray hairs behind his pierced ear. Dante waved him off. </p><p>“Oh, whatever. The crowd’s dead around this time anyways.” </p><p>Vitale shrugged with the green straw in his mouth. He shook up the ice to get at the sweet tea. </p><p>“You have a private dance on Saturday. Just got off the phone arranging it.” Dante chuckled. </p><p>“May I know with who?” </p><p>“A little bird by the name of (Y/N).” Dante stifled on choking from his pizza, resting an elbow on the counter. The same shit-eating grin Vitale wished he could cover with a paper bag appeared again. </p><p>“Well, that’s something I like to hear.” Vitale raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Was that the unfortunate dear you threw at Morrison? Lady told me about that. Poor thing, I handled that RSVP about a surprise birthday event.” </p><p>Dante snorted. </p><p>“First off, Mr. Indiana was the closest one there. Secondly, that was an exaggeration. I handed more than threw. And thirdly, yes that is the (Y/N) of discussion.” </p><p>“You seem rather fond of that little peer-pressured hostage.” </p><p>Dante loosened his tie, making himself a milkshake at his bar station. Lady would yell at him if she caught him doing that again. </p><p>“Hey, cute and shy isn’t something I’m used to seeing. Wouldn’t mind seeing that combination again. Saturday when?” </p><p>He vigorously shook the concoction, thinking about you. He hadn’t seen someone as green and composed as you at his job. Of course, he loved those party people who threw money at him like it was going out of style too. However, there was something about you that he just liked. He was endeared by your shyness on stage but your open conversation at the bar counter. Sweet little smoke shows like you needed more attention. </p><p>The question he asked was abandoned, Vitale swiping through pictures of his pets again. </p><p>“V, what time?” </p><p>“So now you want to care about punctuality and time?” </p><p>“Okay, Mr. Fruity Little Drink 'Cause He Can't Shoot Whiskey…” Dante stuck a paper umbrella in his strawberry milkshake. </p><p>“It’s at nine o’clock in the evening, you arse.” Vitale bit back, picking up another caller. </p><p>The banter melted into the sensual music in the background. Dante took the first sip of his soon-to-melt decadence, toasting to you wherever you were. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <em>It's Awful Tame Right Now But You'll See Some Magic Soon Enough.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>-Rodeo</em>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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